


Number 12 Bus

by battybatzgirl



Series: Parks and Trek [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Based off Ron and Tammy, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, M/M, Not To Be Taken Too Seriously, Parks and Rec plotlines, crazy exs, more sass, parks and recreation AU, parks and trek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battybatzgirl/pseuds/battybatzgirl
Summary: It's time for the yearly inspection of the Enterprise, but Jim is thrown for a loop when Bones' ex-wife shows up as part of the inspection team.*Based off the Parks and Recreation s3e4 "Ron and Tammy 2"





	Number 12 Bus

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a second piece in the ever growing Parks and Trek universe. I had this idea way back in the summer and have been working through the kinks ever since. I hope you enjoy it's silliness :)
> 
> The title comes from the quote from Ron: "Catching the Number 12 bus from Satan's butthole?" as I thought it was generally appropriate.

It was the battle royale. The ultimate gamble. The time of year Jim Kirk dreaded most: annual ship inspection.

“Okay,” Jim says, clapping his hands together and glancing around the conference room. “This is it. We have exactly twelve hours before Starfleet Command sends in the dogs. Everybody know what needs to change?”

“No distillery in any bathtub,” Scotty lists.

Uhura sighs. “No passive aggressive shipwide announcements.”

“No offering alcohol as a medicinal remedy,” Bones grumbles.

“No fencing matches in the halls,” Haiku mutters.

“No reprogramming de replicators,” Chekov adds.

“Good.” Jim nods. “And somebody needs to take the lemon out of play. If we do all that, I think we might be able to make it through.” He takes a breath in relief and smiles. “Now, I want everyone to be brainstorming. I want one list from each of you why the _Enterprise_ is the best out of the ‘fleet and why every other ship sucks.”

There’s a bit of silence before Spock breaks it. “Captain, that is not a required part of the inspection.”

Jim nods. “Oh, I know. I just like reminding you people how good you have it here so the inspection has no hitches whatsoever.”

 _Like reverse blackmail,_ he thinks.

“Look.” He swipes open a PADD and the screen in the conference room lights up. “I stayed up all night last night thinking of my list.”

“There are only fifteen reasons up there,” Sulu observes. “It took you that long to think of fifteen?”

Uhura looks at him doubtfully. “You stayed up all night the night before a ship inspection? Wasn’t it a bad idea to exhaust yourself like that?”

Jim scoffs. _Bad idea._ He steps around to her side of the table. “If it was a bad idea, would I be doing this?”

There’s a beat before Chekov leans forward in his seat and whispers loudly, “Vat are you doing?”

“Cartwheels. Am I not doing them?”

“Alright,” Bones says, pushing away from the table and rising from his chair. “As your acting physician and best friend, I’m ordering you to spend at least six of the twelve hours we have left sleeping. Y’can’t be loopy in front of the admirals who control all of our careers.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “I’ve functioned on less hours of sleep before. I can totally bullshit my way through this as long as the rest of the ship is fully up and running.”

“Which she is,” Scotty inputs. “Like a dream.”

Spock looks down at a PADD and frowns. “Perhaps you will change your mind about your attentiveness if you know who will be conducting the inspection.”

“Oh, god,” Jim says, anxiety prickling at his skin. “Don’t tell me it’s—”

“Komack,” they say together. Everyone in the room groans.

“I hate that guy,” Uhura spits.

“The bloody worst,” Scotty complains loudly, then turns to Chekov and whispers, “Who is he again?”

For the most part, everyone knew who James Komack was: the admiral who refused to give clearance when the _Enterprise_ had to deter from a mission when Spock had to return to New Vulcan for his Pon Farr. Jim took him to New Vulcan anyway, because fuck that, no way some asshole’s permission was going to stand in the way for the literal life of his boyfriend.

(And what an educational trip _that_ was about Vulcan culture.)

But no matter how many times Jim tried to explain the situation to him as a biological life-or-death, Komack acted more and more like a dick. After that, Jim’s relationship with the guy just went down a ninety-degree slope from there. He grates on Jim’s nerves and clearly enjoys nit-picking every detail on the ship.

Inspections were the worst. One year, he filed a complaint against Chekov because he couldn’t understand his accent. The little navigator balled for three hours because it went on his official record.

Jim loathes him.

“ _Shit_ ,” he mutters. “Alright, scrap the list idea. We’ll just turn off the lights on every deck and we’ll pretend we’re not home.”

“Like that would ever work.” Uhura rolls her eyes. “He’s not a twelve-year-old, Jim. We’re a vessel in deep space. We can’t suddenly get on shuttles and _leave_.”

“Who else is on the inspection team?” Sulu asks, looking hopeful. “Anybody else we know?”

Spock purses his lips and thumbs through the list. “Negative,” he says. “I do not believe we have made acquaintance with any other members. They all are direct from Starfleet Command.”

“He got his own private task force for this,” Jim realizes, his stomach twisting. “Oh my god, he’s trying to Court Martial me!” He feels faint, reaching behind him to the wall to steady himself as the room warps and constricts.

Chekov gasps and Scotty cries out, “No!” but then leans over again and whispers, “Still not quite following this.”

“Calm down, Jim,” Bones pacifies, stepping around the table. “Nobody said anything about Court Martialing. Your blood pressure is high because you freak out about this every year and you haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. It’s makin’ you jumpy. Go to bed.”

“There’s no way I’m gonna sleep now that I know that bastard is coming!” Jim complains, his voice reedy. “Everything has to be _perfect_ or else he’ll vomit regulation all over me!”

Bones makes a face in disgust, but Jim ignores it at as a wave of nausea rolls through him. “Nobody move,” he says cautiously, eyeing the room nervously. “The floor and the walls just switched places.”

“Now you’re hysterical,” Bones deduces. He grabs him by the shoulders and gently but firmly pushes him toward the door. “You’re goin’ to sleep this off and let us handle the preparations.”

“Yeah,” Sulu agrees. “We can put ourselves together by the books. Not a single thing will be out of place.”

Jim shakes his head, still feeling woozy. “But I need to reach out to the inspection team—”

“I will issue them a formality,” Spock interrupts. “But I will also send you a copy of the transmission as well as forward you the names of those who will be on the inspection team. Sleep is the best option for your wellbeing.”

Jim bites his lip, his eyes sweeping across the faces in the room. Everyone still looked just as nervous too, but determined. They could handle this. They were Team _Enterprise_.

“Okay,” he says eventually. “I’m trusting all of you. Don’t get me fired.”

“Ve von’t!” Chekov says brightly.

“If we wanted you fired, we could have done it ages ago,” Uhura comments dryly, but she smiles. “We got this.”

Taking a steadying breath, Jim nods and steps out of the room. He heads back to his own quarters, the door swooping open and shut automatically. Fatigue weighs down on his shoulders and he strips to just his regulation sleep pants, reclining back on the bed but opening a PADD anyway. He checks his inbox and automatically opens the forwarded message Spock sent him with the names of the entire inspection crew.

  1. _J. Komack_
  2. _R. Berman_
  3. _M. Forrest_
  4. _J. Treadway_



His throat goes dry at the thought of Komack finding special investigators willing to specifically take him down, so he closes the PADD and flops onto the pillows.

He runs the names over in his head. Maybe he knew one of them in the Academy? Maybe one was an admiral he helped out in the past and would give him a break if an ensign toed out of line?

None of the names stick except for the _J. Treadway_ , but Jim can’t remember for the life of him why it rings a bell. Eventually he gives up, rolling over onto his side and falling asleep.

*

Three hours later, Jim jerks awake in horror. _Treadway_. The maiden name of Bones’ ex-wife.

Joselyn was coming abroad the _Enterprise_.

*

“Uhuraaaaaaaaaaaa!”

The Captain comes bolting down the hall, catching her just as she’s leaving the Mess. She stops and turns, looking him up and down and raising an eyebrow. He’s barefoot and half-naked in his pajamas, his face sheet white as if he’s seen a ghost.

When he skids to a stop in front of her, he looks like a creature possessed. “Where’s Spock?”

She shrugs. “Probably on the bridge.”

Jim shakes his head. “I checked there, but Sulu’s at the conn. He’s not answering his communicator.”

Uhura considers this. “He’s probably with the admirals, then,” she says. “A few beamed down early to get a tour of the ship before inspection started.”

“ _What?_ ” he screeches, so loud that a passing ensign jumps. “Oh god, oh god, this can’t be happening.”

“The tours can’t be happening?” Uhura asks, frowning now. “Captain, are you okay? You’re indecent.”

“ _Joselyn!_ ”

Uhura raises an eyebrow when she realizes he isn’t going to elaborate. “Is…she an old lover?”

“Yes,” he answers, then shakes his head. “No, not _mine_. Bones’. She’s his insane ex-wife!” He grabs her shoulders and jostles her desperately with every word. “I. Cannot. Let. Her. Near. Him.”

Uhura pushes Jim back and scowls. It was one thing to grab her to make a point, but it was another to physically shake her. In any other light, she’d punch him, but he still looks woozy, dazed, and half-crazy from lack of sleep.

“ _You_ should still be in bed,” she scolds. “It was doctor’s orders.”

“Doctor’s orders don’t matter if the doctor is going to face his psychotic ex-she-beast!”

She rolls her eyes. “I think you’re exaggerating a bit, sir.”

“I wish I was,” he says, almost wistfully. “She’s batshit crazy. Like, on a whole other level of crazy. Crazier than Sulu that time he got infected with that virus and challenged everyone to sword fighting. Crazier than Spock gets when Bones moves everything at his station one inch to the left!”

He starts to bounce his weight from one foot to the other. “If she gets anywhere near him, everything will explode into mass chaos and we’ll fail inspection and I’ll get fired and Starfleet will take you and Spock and Scotty and everyone else away and there’ll be no more Team _Enterprise_ and the world will end as we know it!”

He pauses to take a breath, his eyes still bright with anxiety. During his rant, Uhura’s eyebrows climbed to her hairline. The Captain still looks like he might fall over any second and have a heart attack, and so she does the only thing she can think of: use aggressive positive reinforcement.

“Jim,” she says firmly enough to get his attention. “I’ll make sure Joselyn doesn’t get anywhere near McCoy. Everything will be fine, but you have _got_ to calm down.”

He abruptly stops bouncing. “I am calm.”

She narrows her eyes. “ _Go back to bed_.”

He rises up on his toes once and whines, “But Nyota—”

“Do I need to call your boyfriend to physically manhandle you to get you into bed?”

The blonde waggles his eyebrows. “I can have that any time I want.”

She makes a noise of disgust. “ _Go!_ ”

“Okay,” Jim agrees hesitantly, “but when you find Joselyn, don’t look her in the eyes. If you look her in the eyes, she can manipulate you into doing things. Also, make up a fake name and lie about your life, because if you don’t she’ll find your weaknesses and use them against you.”

“You’re insane.”

“Somebody’s gotta protect the delicate birdcage of Bones’ heart, and it sure as hell _can’t_ be her!”

In response, she stabs her finger down the hall. Jim deflates a little, but obediently turns and trudges back in the direction of his quarters.

She doesn’t have the slightest clue to why the thought of Joselyn physically being near McCoy got him so riled up, but a lot of stupid things get Jim riled up when it came to inspection. Because he was the youngest and quickest to attain the title of Captain, Jim was always under a lot of pressure when it came to dealing with Starfleet Command. Until Starfleet cracked down on him, Kirk was probably the best captain in the ‘fleet.

And Uhura intended to keep it that way.

Using the computer panel on the wall, she locates Spock in one of the rec rooms. Despite Jim’s crazed ramblings, she felt the need to listen to at least part of what he said. For as spastic as he gets, Kirk rarely lied.

Uhura makes her way to the rec room, but pauses once in the doorway. Spock was already dressed in his formal uniform. He was discussing something with who she assumes is an admiral—not Komack, thank Christ. But next to that admiral was a woman.

She was small and pretty and didn’t appear devilish in the slightest. Her long chestnut hair fell across her shoulders in waves, and Uhura can’t help but stare dumbly for a second because _this_ was the woman that had Jim in hysterics?

“Lieutenant Uhura.” Spock breaks off whatever he was saying and inclines his head slightly when he notices her. “I would like to introduce Admiral Forrest and Director Treadway. Both come from Starfleet Command and are interested in touring the ship before the inspection begins.”

Uhura smiles politely and nods. “Admiral, Director.”

“It’s almost a shame,” Forrest comments offhandedly. “For all my years in service, I’ve never seen a ship like this.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further, and both Spock and Uhura stiffen, apparently having the same train of thought. _What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

“Uhura,” Joselyn speaks, turning her brown eyes on her. “As in Nyota?”

Jim’s warning of manipulation flashes to the front of her brain “Yes. Why do you ask?”

Joselyn smiles. “Oh, it’s nothing bad,” she assures her with a chuckle. “I’ve read over your work involving Klingon translations and the importance for linguistic skills to be taught early in all standardized schools. It was something that really changed my outlook on intercultural relations. You have a way with words, if you’ll pardon my pun.” She chuckles again, and Uhura feels herself flush with pride.

“It’s no secret you’re the ‘fleet’s top translator,” Forrest agrees. “This ship is lucky to have you.”

Uhura turns a darker shade of red. “Thank you both very much.”

Forrest turns back to Spock. “Could we see the rest of the communications department?”

“I thought the labs were next,” Joselyn says, sounding disappointed.

Spock glances at Uhura. “Perhaps the lieutenant could take you, Director.”

Panic jolts through Uhura, but before she can say anything to deter her new responsibility, Joselyn beams and chirps, “Wonderful! Thank you!”

Uhura shoots a glare at Spock, though it was really unnecessary because it wasn’t like _he_ had to deal with Jim on the brink of a nervous breakdown prior to this. Then she remembers that they’re dating, and Spock probably deals with a lot of Jim’s hyperactivity, and she feels a little guiltier for the glare.

They split up, Spock and Forrest going in one direction and Joselyn and Uhura going in the other.

“Um,” Uhura starts, inwardly kicking herself for not thinking of a more sophisticated way to speak to a Director of Starfleet, “I actually think medical is pretty swamped right now, we just had a run in with the Fabonan Flu—”

“Medical?” Joselyn stops, blinking. “Why would we be going to medical?”

“You said labs, so I assumed—”

“Oh.” A tired smile spreads across Joselyn’s face. “You assumed I wanted to go to medical because you know I was married to Doctor McCoy.”

Uhura tries not to look guilty. “Yes.”

“I figured,” she sighs. “No, I was talking about the science labs—the botany one, to be specific. I read your ship has the most extensive lab on any class vessel, and I was surprised to learn they included the growing and caretaking of foreign plants.”

“Plants,” Uhura repeats.

“I have a garden back on Earth,” Joselyn says, looking adorably sheepish. “I like to learn about flowers.”

 _Flowers_ , Uhura thinks in disbelief, her mind reeling. She wanted to learn about _flowers_. Not go screaming at McCoy for their ruined marriage, _not_ going batshit crazy and wanting to destroy everyone’s lives like Jim had warned.

“If it’s too much for you,” Joselyn continues, “you can go back to your station and I’ll catch up with Matthew and Commander Spock. I wouldn’t want to be a burden, I’m sure your staff is busy enough preparing for inspection.”

Uhura shakes her head and snaps herself out of it. “No, I have time.” She starts walking again, this time down the opposite direction of the hall toward the turbolift. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but I thought you’d be a little more…”

“Crazy?” Joselyn supplies, raising a delicate eyebrow.

“I was going to say eccentric,” Uhura says helpfully. “But the word crazy had been dropped a few times.”

The turbolift doors open and they both step inside. Joselyn sighs again. “Who talked to you? Was it Jim?”

“You know Jim?”

“I’ve had a few run-ins with him,” she admits. “Once you get in a barfight with him once you never forget.”

Uhura’s eyes widen. “You got in a fight with him?” The nervousness returns for a moment before Joselyn laughs once and shakes her head.

“No, no. He was drunk and spilled his drink on me, and I stood up and slapped him. It wasn’t a _fight_ , just a little altercation.”

 _Huh_ , Uhura thinks.

“If it were me, I would’ve clubbed him in the nose,” she says, making Joselyn laugh again. The noise was soft and delicate, like the rest of her.

“Maybe that’s why you’re such a good officer,” Joselyn says warmly. “You must have a knack for recognizing and taking down threats. It makes you a great leader, and it serves you well as a loyal officer.”

 _Huh_ , Uhura thinks again. The turbolift stops and they get out, stepping onto the lab deck.

“I admit, I don’t know a whole lot about botany,” she starts, “but our helmsman, Hikaru Sulu, has pretty much made sure this place stays up and running. You’ll meet him later, I’m sure he can talk your ear off about plants.”

Joselyn smiles as her again. “I would like that very much.” Then, she turns her attention back to the plants, stepping carefully around them like they were her children and she was keeping a loving watch on their playdate.

Jim must have been more exhausted than she thought. There was no way Joselyn was the monster he made her out to be.

*

McCoy took pride in his ability to maintain his privacy. Not a lot of people dared to barge into his office. He held quite the reputation with the ensigns for being scary, and he’d like to keep it that way.

(Unfortunately, that rule didn’t apply to Jim or Christine, but that’s because they insisted that _scary_ wasn’t a synonym for _perpetually_ _grumpy_.)

Naturally, he’s floored when Nyota Uhura steps into his office.

“Doctor,” she greets, a polite little smile on her face. “I wanted to ask you something.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And you had to do it in person?”

She doesn’t take the bait. “Your ex-wife Joselyn Treadway is on the inspection team.” She says it like a statement, not a question.

McCoy narrows his eyes, an uneasiness rising in his chest. “Yeah, so?”

“So,” Uhura says, “don’t you think you should talk to her to try to clear the air before inspection begins so there will be no hard feelings after it’s done?”

His eyes narrow even more. It sounded like bullshit, like words someone had planted in her mouth. But in order for that to happen, she needed to _hear_ the words, and the only other person who would want him near Joselyn was—

He sits at attention and locks his stare at the door. “She’s outside, isn’t she?”

“Just talk to her,” Uhura urges softly. “She’s changed, she’s not bad.”

The uneasiness turns to burning acid in his throat. Throwing open the door and starting a screaming match wouldn’t bode well for either party (or any eavesdropping ensigns, for that matter). He had to be somewhat civil when he told Joyce to leave, even if it might kill him.

McCoy stands and huffs, already regretting his decision. “People don’t change,” he grunts, but opens the door.

Joselyn is standing a little ways away from the door. Her hair is longer now, falling past her shoulders, but she looks almost exactly the same as she did when she was throwing a pan at his head and screaming for him to get off her porch. Behind her, Christine is backed up against a biobed, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in shock.

“Hi, Len,” Joselyn says softly.

“Joyce,” he snaps shortly. He makes no move to get any closer.

Joselyn notices this too, and she lets out a little sigh. “I’m sorry about how abrupt this is,” she says gently, “but I really just want to talk to you. I have so much to tell you about Jo-Jo and what’s been going on back home….Couldn’t we grab a cup of coffee? Make it unofficial before inspection begins?”

His instincts scream _nonono_ and his body physically wants to fight against it and flee, but he wasn’t about to make a scene in his own medbay in front of Christine and Uhura. So he swallows down his uneasiness and clenches his jaw.

“Fine,” he spits. “Let’s get this over with.”

Joselyn smiles and shoots a thumbs up at Uhura before turning around and sashaying out the door. McCoy feels himself throw up a little before following.

*

Jim tugs at the collar of his dress uniform for the thirteenth time. He only knows how many times because Spock is very keen on keeping track for him.

“ _Jim_.”

“I know,” Jim whines, dropping his hand and fidgets his fingers at his side. They were in the shuttle bay, waiting for the incoming ship to drop off the rest of the inspection team. Komack’s shuttle was looming, like a giant cloud of evil just waiting to erupt in thunder and crack down on him.

“You have passed inspection without flaw for three years,” Spock says, standing a bit closer than necessary and brushing their shoulders together. “Cease your worry, _ashayam_. All will be well.”

Jim sighs. “I know,” he repeats, revealing in the warmth and security Spock provided. “This whole Joselyn is throwing me off. Can you believe Komack actually got her on his team? Where the hell did a move like _that_ come from?”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “It is likely he is unaware of the connection. She is a director for Starfleet human resources.”

“Yeah, the only time she wants to be around humans is to use _them_ as a _resource_.”

The Vulcan’s eyebrow climbs a little higher, but before he can say anything Uhura slides up next to them.

“Boys.” She looks incredibly satisfied with herself.

“Do you need something? Did you get the communications department briefed?” Jim pauses, then frowns. “Wait, why are you here?”

Uhura rolls her eyes. “I can’t rub my victory in your face like any other self-righteous _man?_ ” Then she stops, as if remembering his original question and authority. “Everything in my department is ready, sir.”

But Jim’s frown only deepens. “What victory?”

“I fixed it.”

“Fixed…what?”

She smiles and squares her shoulders. The doors to the bay open, and the shuttle slowly descends inside the hanger. “I got McCoy and Joselyn to be on speaking terms again.”

“You _WHAT?_ ”

Uhura’s eyes widen and she jolts in surprise at the outburst. Spock presses a bit closer and wrapping his hand tightly just above Jim’s elbow keep him steady.

But Jim doesn’t react, can’t think, can’t do anything but reel and think of how his life has just ended right in front of his eyes.

“ _Nyota!_ ” he cries. “You had one job!” He tries to take a deep breath, but it comes out more like a quick and desperate pant. “Oh god, this can’t be happening.”

“She’s not bad,” Uhura pacifies, her eyebrows now drawn together in confusion. “Joselyn is nice! She didn’t even want to go to Sickbay, and I even offered to—"

“You offered?!” Jim screeches, now catching the attention of a passing engineer who gazes at them warily. “No! _No, no_. That’s how she tricks you! She pretends to be nice and calm but then goes bezerk whenever she doesn’t get what she wants!”

Uhura doesn’t seem convinced. “She wanted to see the botany labs. That’s hardly tricky.”

“Because she uses flowers to _drug_ _people_ ,” he stresses, rubbing at his forehead. “One time she tried hunting for Bones at the Academy and I got in her way and she sprayed poison on me to break into our room! I had hives for weeks!”

“She’s barely five feet tall.”

“It makes her evil-ness compact and ten times worse!” Jim shoots back, feeling his anxiety rising in a wave. “One year, I went to a Christmas party at Bones’ mom’s place and she assaulted me!”

Now, Spock seems concerned. “She assaulted you?”

“She’s tiny, Jim,” Uhura agrees. “Tiny and sweet and not the assaulting type at all.”

Jim splutters before pointing to the side of his face, just under his left eye. “Don’t you ever wonder how I got this scar?” he hisses. “It’s from _her!_ Using her sloth claws to take me down when I was least expecting it!”

“Sloth claws?” Spock repeats, confused. “Earth sloths are traditionally slow and peaceful creatures. Their claws are used for scavenging and climbing, not for attack.”

Jim whirls on him. “Have you ever _seen_ a sloth, Spock? Their claws are huge!” He stands on his toes and gestures more widely to his face. “ _Look_ at it!”

Uhura scoffs. “That scar is barely visible. It could have been from acne. Are you sure you didn’t just have too much eggnog that year?”

The shuttle docks, and the door to the ship opens.

His communicator beeps.

_“Uh, Captain?”_

Sulu’s voice pierces through the room. Jim snatches it from his pocket and whips it open.

“Yes?” His voice cracks, but he tries to hold it together as he watches Komack slowly exit the shuttle.

_“There…There was an incident.”_

His stomach drops through the floor and he draws the communicator closer. “Did anyone get hurt? Send them straight to Sickbay and get them back to their station as soon as possible.”

He can hear as Sulu hesitates. _“Sir…It_ involves _Doctor McCoy.”_

No.

_“Apparently there was an altercation in rec room four, and somehow a table got flipped…He and one of the inspectors are being held in the brig right now.”_

_No_.

Komack helps the rest of his team out of the shuttle, shares a greeting with Scotty, then snaps his head over and locks eyes on Jim.

 _“It’s pretty bad,”_ Sulu continues, oblivious. _“Reports are still coming in about…”_ He pauses, then reads off in a confused voice, _“sexual misconduct?”_

Jim wants to scream, cry, and explode all at once. He snaps the communicator shut without signing off and whirls to Uhura.

“ _You_ did this!” he cries. “ _Years_ of putting Bones through emotional therapy and carefully guarding his precious birdcage heart—”

“Birdcage?” Spock interrupts, perplexed.

“—you took it all away!” He drops his head into his hands and nearly bursts into tears.

“It can’t be that bad,” Uhura assures him, but now she sounds uncertain. “They were probably just caught kissing or something, I’m sure he’ll be back at his station.”

Jim shakes his head and moans. “You don’t get it! She has this weird power over him—he becomes a sex-crazed when he’s with her!” He raises his head and straightens his shoulders. “I’ve got to stop this before it gets any worse.”

He makes a move to walk away, but Spock still holds tight to his elbow. “Jim,” he stresses, “the inspection.”

His body goes cold. _Shit_. The inspection. It was still happening. Komack still wanted his blood, but Bones was on the brink of insanity. Jim bounces up and down on the balls of his feet, his mind whirling with a solution.

“Reverse the order,” he instructs. “Go from the upper decks to the bottom, that should give me enough time to get Bones out of the brig and back to Sickbay. Tell Komack I’m handling an emergency in engineering or something and I’ll meet you halfway in the labs.”

Spock looks as if he wants to protest, but Jim bats his eyes and holds out his index and middle fingers expectantly. “Pleeeeease?”

The Vulcan lets out a soft breath, but brushes their fingers together and rumbles, “Very well.”

Uhura looks a bit guilty now. “Do you need me to go with you?”

“No!” he says, frantically waving his arms around. “She’ll view you as prey. I’ve dealt with her enough, I know how to handle her. I don’t want to risk corruption of anybody else!” Then he pauses and bites his lip. “Actually, if neither of you hear from me within an hour, send help. But only crew members who are asexual or don’t have reproductive biology.”

He dashes away before either of them can say anything more.

*

He should have known this would have happened. He should have known something would go wrong.

Once in the brig, Jim finds Bones in one glass cell while Joycelyn occupies the other.

And they’re trying to kiss. Through the glass.

The flustered security officer looks relieved when he sees Jim. He quickly strides over and speaks in a rush, “Sir, it’s been like this for ages, I don’t know what do—”

“Out.”  

The officer doesn’t have to be told twice, nearly sprinting from the room.

Jim can already feel a headache forming at his temples. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he strides up to the glass where Bones is mashing his mouth against the panel. He waits there for a moment, expecting a response getting pissed when he doesn’t get one.

“HEY!” he shouts, banging his fist against the glass. “MCCOY! Stop for air!”

As if being woken from a dream, Bones pulls away. “Jim,” he says, blinking.

“What the hell, man?” Jim hisses, stepping closer and crossing his arms. “You can’t just go straight back to her—” He pauses, then squints. “Wait, is your lip pierced? Do you have dreads? You didn’t even have time to—how is your hair even long enough for that?”

Bones opens his mouth, but Jocelyn speaks first.

“You’re too late,” she sneers. “We’re back together and we’re never breaking up ever again! Isn’t that right, baby?” She turns the last part to Bones, who makes an animalistic sound in the back of his throat. He looks at her like he wants to eat her.

Jim’s nose wrinkles. “Ew.”

He steps over to the other cell to face Jocelyn. Her hair is messy and her once pristine uniform is now mucked up and disheveled, like it had been yanked at. “Look, we both know how this ends. You know Bones isn’t ever going to come back with you, so why do you even bother?”

Jocelyn smirks. “Oh James,” she says, “you’re not listening. We’re not breaking up—not this time.” She lifts up her left hand and wiggles her fingers in front of the glass. There is a small wire wrapped around her ring finger.

“We renewed our vows,” Bones supplies, sounding too husky for Jim’s liking. “Or, we will once we get planet side.”

“We’re not going planet side,” Jim says, unable to tear his eyes away from Jocelyn’s little hand. “We’re in deep space for two more years.”

“I’m resigning.”

Jim’s head snaps over to him. “ _What?!_ ” When Bones doesn’t say anything else, he moves back over to his side of the cell. “You can’t resign, you’re my CMO!”

“Not anymore,” Jocelyn sing-songs.

“You love your job! You love working on the _Enterprise_!”

“No,” Bones shoots back, “ _you_ love working on the _Enterprise_. I hate space.”

“You do not,” Jim snaps. “You just like to complain about it! You love helping beings of other species and finding out new medicinal practices of other planets! You’re the best in the fleet and you’re _my_ CMO and you’re not resigning.” Bones narrows his eyes, and he hastily continues, “Don’t you remember why you joined Starfleet in the first place? It was because _she_ took everything from you in your divorce.”

He stabs a finger at Jocelyn, who presses herself against the glass separating them.

“I didn’t mean it, sugar,” she says earnestly, her eyes wide and her face completely innocent. “If I would have known you’d be this far away from me I never would have kicked you out.”

Jim’s face screws up in distaste—sugar, _really_? Who was she kidding?—but Bones looks hypnotized. Jocelyn smiles softly and places her hand against the glass, and Bones moves forward and places his hand on his side against hers.

“Are you—are you serious?” Jim says, bewildered. “She’s _lying_. You know this McCoy, c’mon, work with me here.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jocelyn says seriously. “He’s just trying to keep you away from me so _he_ can try to get with me.”

Jim splutters, staggering back a step. “For your _information_ , I am in a committed relationship with a man I was married to in another reality!”

Jocelyn’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. Now wasn’t the time for _that_ rabbit trail. Instead, he turns back to Bones and says, “What about Joanna? She took Jo away from you, too!”

“I’ll be able to see her when we get back to Earth.” He shrugs. “I’m quitting, Jim.”

Jim stares at him for a second, flabbergasted. In the silence, his communicator beeps, but he doesn’t pick it up. “She’s in your head. She’s doing this, not you. You don’t want this, not really.”

“You want this,” Joselyn insists sharply.

“Stay out of it, heathen!”

“Len,” she whines, sounding pathetic and innocent again, “he’s insulting my honor!”

Bones glowers at him. “Don’t be a bitch, Jim.”

“ _I’m_ not being a bitch!” he cries, ignoring his communicator beeping for a second time. “ _She’s_ being a bitch! And I don’t say that lightly, you know how I think that’s the second worst adjective to call a woman.”

He heaves a frustrated breath and tugs at his hair. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m taking you out of that cell and you’re going to be in solitary confinement in your quarters for the next twenty-four hours. After that time if you still want to resign, _then_ we’ll talk.”

Bones starts to grumble and looks visibly upset, but Jim turns to Joselyn and continues. “But like it or not, this is _my_ ship and he’s _my_ medical officer and you can’t just uproot him under my nose. Not on my turf.”

Joselyn leans casually against the glass, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sounds nice and all,” she says slyly, “but in twenty-four hours, this won’t be your ship.”

“What.”

“The inspection,” she says, her eyes glinting dangerously. “It won’t go very well without your Chief Medical Officer in a leave of unexpected absence. In fact, aren’t you missing it right now? The admirals sure love to give out poor marks—last inspection I was on they ended Captain Tucker’s career.”

Jim opens his mouth, then freezes. The inspection was happening _right now_. Bones was away from his post. _Jim_ was away from his post. He was already on eggshells with Komack, but now, if he stayed down here any longer—

“You punk-ass PADD jockey,” he whispers, staring at her with a mix of awe and horror. “You planned this.”

Joselyn smiles.

“Keptain Kirk!”

Chekov sprints into the brig, his little curls bouncing. He skids to a stop in front of Jim and pants, “Sir, the inspection—”

“You’re breeding so many blondes on this ship,” Joselyn interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Wonder why the reputation isn’t one of stupidity.”

“Hey,” Jim snaps, “I’ll have you know I stand by my reputation. Ever hear of that blonde pain in the ass Command is always complaining about? That’s _me_.”

“Sir,” Chekov tries again desperately, “Commander Spock has refused to start de inspection unteel you arrive. Admiral Komack ees getting impatient.”

“Spock stalled?” Jim repeats dumbly, hope rushing through him. Spock _stalled_. “That sneaky Vulcan!” Oh, he could kiss Spock a thousand times.

“Admiral Komack vants to start _now_ ,” Chekov stresses. “You must go to de bridge.”

“Can’t Spock hold him off just a little longer?” Jim asks. “I’ve gotta take Bones to his room.”

Bones scowls. “I ain’t leavin’ Joyce.”

“You left your _brain_ a long time ago,” Jim tells him dryly. “You’ve been thinking with your—”

“Keptain,” Chekov says, now sounding a bit uncomfortable. Jim turns and looks to see Joselyn leering at the Russian.

“You’re cute,” she purrs, stroking the glass. “Where’s your accent from, honey?”

Jim acts fast, yanking Chekov by his skinny forearm and crowding him protectively to his chest. “You will corrupt this innocent boy over my dead body, she-demon!”

“Like you could stop me!” Joselyn sneers.

Bones overlaps her, snapping, “Quit callin’ her names!”

His cheek still smashed against Jim’s chest, Chekov warbles, “I’m tventy-three.”

So, okay.

Jim needs to get to the bridge, but he needs to keep Bones away from Joselyn to be not-crazy, but he needs Bones for inspection, too. Biting his lip, Jim pulls together a plan the way he always does: speaking quickly, confidently, and not thinking twice.

He lets go of Chekov and orders, “Take Bones to Sickbay, and get Chapel to lock him in his office. I’ll come down when I can and try to shake him out of this. Call somebody—Keenser, actually, he’d probably be best—and have Director Treadway regroup with the inspection committee. I’ll go up to the bridge and start the inspection.”

“Jim,” Bones warns dangerously, “I’m not moving.”

He snorts. “Bring it on, old man.” He steps to the side of the cell and inputs the code to open the door. Bones moves toward the back of the cell, but Jim quickly grabs one of his arms and starts tugging him forward. Hissing, Bones tries to shake him off but Chekov jumps to grab his other arm, and they both manage to drag the doctor to the turbolift.

“Quit pullin’!” Once the doors close, they release Bones’ arms and lets out a little breath of relief. Bones crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. “You’re bein’ ridiculous.”

“Sickbay— _I’m_ being ridiculous?” Jim repeats in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You have a piece of metal sticking out of your lip. Talk to me again when your blood flow isn’t directed in your pants.”

“I’m a redblooded man,” Bones protests. “I have needs. It’s easy for you because you have a hobgoblin who’s addicted to praise. Women aren’t that easy to woo.”

“Spock isn’t addicted to praise.”

“Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you’ve never played captain in bed.”

Jim’s cheeks burn. Bones looks incredibly pleased with himself. Behind them, Chekov coughs rather loudly, a reminder of his presence.

“ _Needs_ , Jim,” the doctor presses. “Needs that involve boobs and aren’t limited to alien fetishes.”

“I don’t have an alien fetish!” Jim denies, but he gets leveled with two sets of eyes that clearly know he’s lying. Feeling a little more flustered, he continues quickly, “Okay, maybe I do. But that _doesn’t_ mean I don’t share the same sex drive.”

Bones doesn’t seem to be listening. He’s turned to Chekov, who suddenly looks like a child caught between two feuding parents. “What about you? Do you like boobs?”

“Er—” Chekov hesitates, glancing nervously between both of them. “Yes?”

Bones turns back to him. “He likes boobs, Jim,” he concludes, as if that ended the argument. “He gets it.”

“You and I both know sexuality is a spectrum and there’s nothing wrong with falling in love with another being no matter the gender or species!” Jim insists, now getting frustrated. “But this isn’t about _love_ , this is about Joyce manipulating you out of a job. She’s tried this before and she’ll try it again, but I can’t talk you out of it unless you _listen to me_.”

Bones stares him in the eyes and says, “She’s my wife.” He says it so firmly it sends a thrill of panic down Jim’s spine.

“Ex,” he corrects hoarsely. The turbolift stops, but Jim keeps the doors closed to lock them in there a little longer. He clears his throat and uses his best Authoritative-Captain voice. “If you don’t get yourself together enough for inspection, I’ll call Joanna and tell her Santa isn’t real.”

Bones doesn’t even flinch. “You’d never ruin that for her.”

“Goddamn it.” Bones called his bluff. He lets the door open and tells Chekov, “Put him in his office. Don’t let anyone in or out until I come back.”

The navigator gives a little salute and tugs Bones along out of the turbolift. Jim can only put his trust in Chapel and pray at this point, really. He forces himself to take the lift up to the bridge. He’s a fake-it-till-you-make-it type of guy, and this was a perfect example of when he needed to bring his skills into use.

Stepping out of the turbolift, he plasters a fake smile on his face and strides toward Komack. “Admiral,” he greets warmly, holding out his hand to shake. “Good to have you and your team aboard.”

“You’re late,” is the only response he gets, along with a general scowl that never seems to leave Komack’s face whenever he’s around Jim. He doesn’t move to shake Jim’s hand.

Great.

“Let’s get this nightmare started, shall we?”

*

They went through the first half of inspection without a hitch. When Komack announced they were breaking for two hours, Jim naturally used the time to the best of his talent.

He forced everyone into an intervention.

“Leonard Horatio McCoy,” Jim starts, “in the past eighteen hours, you’ve been hyped up on Joyce-juice and we’re here to put an end to it.” He gestures to the circle of chairs pulled together in the conference room and his colleges who sit in them. It’s made up of Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Scotty, Chapel, and Jim himself. “The people in this room all care about you. We’re gonna get you clean.”

“ _Before_ the inspection continues,” Chapel points out. “If my medbay doesn’t pass, I don’t want it to be my fault.”

Bones says nothing about the reference to _her_ and not _their_ medbay, but keeps glaring murderously at Jim.

Trying to ignore this, Jim rubs his hands together. “Alright, who wants to go first?”

Uhura stands up. “First of all, I’d like to say I never intended to emotionally destroy the man in front of us, and therefore no one should be mad at me for my mistake.”

Sulu squints at her. “Are you apologizing?”

Uhura stares at him for a long moment before sitting back down in silence.

Chapel is the next to stand. “I’d like to address the goofy-looking, nasty pierced, cornrowed clown in the room.” She takes a step closer and puts her hands on her hips, leaning down into Bones’ face. “If you see Leonard McCoy can you give him this message? You used to be a man! Now you’re acting like a drugged up freakshow, like my brother! I’ve always treated you _as_ my brother, but I _hate_ my real brother, and I don’t want to hate you too!”

Before Chapel can get any more heated, Jim calls, “Scotty! Any words?”

“Er—” Scotty says, glancing around uncertainty. “Yer hurting us all by this decision?” Jim cringes a little. “Ah, I don’ really see ta issue here, if McCoy’s happy—”

“Shut up, shut up,” Jim says, waving his hands. None of this was helping. “Spock?”

The Vulcan rises, as prim and poised as ever. “Doctor, I do not understand the emotional complexities of what is occurring. However, the decisions you make will be your own. Human nature is often flawed and holds repercussions that will affect us all, no matter your decision.”

Spock sits. Jim leans over to him and hisses, “That’s all you got?”

Spock gives a small shoulder movement Jim has come to recognize as a Vulcan shrug. The blonde scrubs his hand down his face.

“This is a waste of time,” Bones cuts in. “You people have no idea what you’re talkin’ about. You don’t know true love when it hits you on the back of the head like a fryin’ pan.”

“I’m married,” Sulu points out to no one in particular. “Is everyone forgetting that?”

“Is that what you need me to do?” Jim demands shrilly, speaking over Sulu. “Because I’ll hit you hard enough to send you flying back to Georgia if you don’t snap out of it!”

“You’ve just never seen a stable marriage before,” Bones shoots back, just as heated. “Must be the first time for you, since your step-parents had such shitty one.”

Chapel and Uhura make soft “Oooh” sounds. Sulu mentions again that he’s in a stable marriage and has a child, but no one listens.

“This isn’t about _me_ ,” Jim snaps, now only addressing Bones. “It’s about _you_ getting your house in order. For your daughter and your coworkers and your friends.”

“If you were my _friends_ , you would be _supporting_ me in this.”

Chapel whispers, “Damn.”

“This situation is perhaps worse than when they got intoxicated during Chekov’s birthday celebration,” Spock agrees.

Uhura snickers. “I should have brought popcorn.”

“That’s it!” Jim declares. “Intervention over! Everybody out!”

As the crew stands and tries to exit, the door slides open and reveals Jocelyn. She shoves Scotty out of the way and runs to Bones, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Bones makes a deep growling noise in the back of his throat and proceeds to try to eat her face off with his mouth.

Everyone in the room groans or makes some noise of protest. Jim feels himself throw up in his mouth a little. “Oh my god—please, can you _not_ do that?”

“Oh, it’s done, Jim,” Bones says, ripping away for air. “Joyce and I are in love and there’s nothing anyone in this room can do about it.”

To rub it even more in his face, Jocelyn waggles her makeshift engagement ring.

“You have bigger things to worry about,” Jocelyn reminds him. “Medical’s next on the inspection list, but Len and I are starting our honeymoon early.”

She takes a hold of Bones’ arm and starts tugging him out of the room. A cold sense of dread spreads across Jim’s skin. Bones was too far gone for rational thought. He might be for good this time. But they couldn’t leave the ship just yet, not as long as inspection was going on.

He turns to Chapel. “Think you can manage to pull medical together on your own?”

Chapel gives him a look, which either means _of-course-I-can-you-idiot_ or _why-are-you-letting-him-go._ Jim can validate responses for either one. But she nods, and Jim starts his trek of shame to find Komack

In the hall, he can see Bones and Jocelyn walking ahead. The heathen is whispering something to him in his ear, but it’s when Chekov comes scampering up does she pull away.

“Doctor McCoy,” Chekov says is a rush, “there you are. De inspection team ees on their vay to medical. You and de keptain must—”

“Back off,” Joycelin snaps, keeping her arm synched tight around Bones’ waist. “He’s not going to be part of any inspection.”

“But sir—”

Jocelyn moves fast and slaps Chekov across the cheek. Chekov yelps, clearly not expecting this, but Joycelyn strikes him again. The third time he blocks her by catching her arm.

“He’s attacking me! Kill him, Len!”

Chekov makes the mistake of glancing over to Bones, because it distracts him enough for Jocelyn to jab her knee into his stomach. He lets go of her arm and doubles over.

Sharply, Bones says, “Joyce.”

She grabs Chekov by the hunched shoulders and shoves him into the wall. The navigator groans and collapses. Jocelyn makes another move to keep going, but Bones barks, “That’s _enough!_ ”

Jocelyn freezes. Jim freezes. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see everyone who was heading out of the conference room stop where they were, too. Chapel hesitantly glances them both before stepping around them all to get to Chekov, still wounded on the floor.

Bones’ eyes are narrowed but his face is completely void of whatever crazed adoration it held before. “You almost had me again, woman. But you can’t ever hide how much of a monster you are, no matter how many times you try to butter me up with sex.”

Jocelyn’s face twists into an ugly scowl. “You’re a joke. You’re not even a man anymore, being in artificial gravity has made you lose your balance!” She steps even closer and gets right in Bones’ face, her mouth less than an inch away from his. “And just so you know, I faked five out of the seven.”

The corner of Bones’ lip curls up. “So did I.” He turns around and it’s like a curtain has been parted because he looks to non-brainwashed. He makes eye contact with Jim, and Jim wants to cry in relief. “Somebody get this hag out of here and get the kid patched up. We’ve got an inspection to ace.”

~

“It’s official,” Jim announces when the door opens. “We passed! It’s in writing and everything.” He strides through the Bones’ quarters and thrusts out the PADD for proof. “Komack looked like he was having a hemorrhage when he gave it to me.”

The doctor was sitting in his chair with his face in his hands. He glances up once to look at the approved form on the screen.

“What, you’re not even going to comment on how I worded that?”

“It’s been a rough day.”

Jim flops on the chair across from him. “You’re telling me. Chekov won’t shut up about Joycelyn giving him a scar. I told him to suck it up because a) chicks dig scar, and b) his is nothing compared to _this_ one she gave me at your mom’s Christmas party all those years ago.”

“Dammit, man, you can’t even see that thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s still _there_.”

Bones sighs. “Jim…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he jokes. “Chekov was pretty drugged on whatever Chapel gave him as a pain killer. He got a hold of a tribble and taped it to his chest because he wanted to have more chest hair.”

“Chekov wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t stopped Joyce.”

Jim’s mouth pulls in one direction. “I don’t think she would have murdered someone to win you over.” Bones opens his mouth, but Jim keeps talking. “If she was gonna kill anyone, it was gonna be me. And sacrificing myself for you is a risk I’ll always take.”

The doctor rolls his eyes. “What is this turning into, romance after dark?”

Jim grins and makes a move to dramatically elaborate, but Bones pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “For God’s sake, stop bein’ an idiot and grab the whiskey before I decide to stun the fool outta you.”

“Gee, love you too,” Jim snorts.

Bones smiles. “Yeah, yeah, sentiment. Just give me the damn alcohol.”


End file.
